Broken Pieces
by Oddling
Summary: *Chp 4 up* Gohan finally snaps and almost kills himself. Piccolo is the only one who has a chance of getting through to him, but will he be able to get inside his former student's head and find out the problem? (rating may change in later chapters)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing, I say!!!!! oh, except for my Trunks pillow! *hugs said pillow possessively* But that's it! Nothing else! Got it?!  
  
  
  
A/N: I was feeling rather dramatic and angsty one night . . . and I also happened to realize what a tragic character Gohan was (I analyze DBZ characters for fun. . . don't ask). And, well . . . this is the result!  
  
  
  
*- thoughts  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Alone . . . "  
  
  
  
The whispered word drifted into the night sky and faded into its darkness. Son Gohan stood outside his dome-shaped home and stared into the endless inky blackness that stretched out for eternity. A cold wind blew and rustled his coal-black hair, but the demi-saiyan seemed not to notice. It had been 11 years since he had defeated Cell with the help of his father, and earlier this week he had gone to his first day of high school. Real high school. Free of home schooling at last . . . he was finally getting a chance to meet people his own age. For once, he was getting a chance at a normal life.  
  
  
  
* Then why do I feel so incomplete? * he wondered. * I don't have the same love of fighting that dad did, but this 'normal' life is driving me insane! *  
  
  
  
He looked down at his wrist and observed the strange-looking watch he had on.  
  
  
  
* Saiyaman . . . *  
  
  
  
He sighed.  
  
  
  
* Just another pathetic attempt to try and be like my dad . . . What was I thinking?! Satan City doesn't need a new superhero . . . they've already got Videl. They're happy with her . . . All I'm doing is trying to make a place for myself. *  
  
  
  
He undid the clasp and slid it off his wrist, and held it dangling in front of his face.  
  
  
  
* After everything I've been through, if I thought that a silly costume could help me find a place in this world, I guess I'm not as smart as mom thought. *  
  
  
  
Suddenly he couldn't stand the sight of the watch. He pulled his arm back and flung it forward, hurling it as far away from his as possible.  
  
  
  
* Why me?! Why do I have to be the one with the hidden identity? Why do I always have to have two lives? Why . . . *  
  
He mentally berated himself.  
  
  
  
* There's no point in asking why . . .Things are what they are, and I just have to live with it.*  
  
  
  
He was surprised to feel wetness on his face, and he quickly wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt.  
  
  
  
* Crying…at my age?! I'm pathetic. I bet dad never stood out here like a loon and contemplated everything wrong with his life. He just took everything in and managed to do it with a smile . . . *  
  
  
  
Against Gohan's will, the tears started coming faster.  
  
  
  
* Oh, god . . . I miss him so much! Just . . . having him here made me feel safe . . . that everything was going to be ok because he would take care of everything. I guess that's what heroes do . . . and that's what he was. A hero. Our hero. *  
  
  
  
He choked back a sob as he lowered his face into his hands, shoulders shaking from his silent tears.  
  
  
  
* But I was stupid and didn't finish off Cell when I had the chance…and dad had to clean up my mess. Because of me, he's dead. Now he's gone, and I have to be the hero. Yea, some hero I am . . . just some cheap imitation with a helmet and lame poses. *  
  
  
  
The teen slowly sank to his knees, his grief taking its toll on his body.  
  
  
  
* And Goten . . . how can I look at him every day and not realize how much he looks like dad? How does mom expect me to take care of him when he only reminds me of how dad's death was my fault? He's like a walking guilt trip . . . a reminder that it's my fault that he has to grow up without a father. *  
  
  
  
Taking several deep breaths, he managed to shakily stand back up and look blindly into the vastness of the heavens.  
  
  
  
"I HATE YOU!" he screamed in a mindless rage. "WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE ME? WHY?!"  
  
  
  
Subconsciously he began powering up to super saiyan level, as his hair flickered gold and eyes flashed aquamarine. He screamed as flames of light engulfed him, causing the ground to shake and split. The door to their home slammed open, and a scared-looking Chi-chi came running out.  
  
  
  
"Gohan! What's wrong?! What's happening?!"  
  
  
  
But her questions were lost in the anguished howls of her eldest son. Goten ran up behind her and clung on to her apron, becoming frightened at what was happening to his big brother. Chi-chi knew that Gohan was beyond reasoning with, and she could only think of one person that would be able to get through to him in this state. She looked down at the frightened child clinging on to her and kneeled down to look him in the eyes.  
  
  
  
"Goten, honey, I know you're scared, but I need you to go get Piccolo. You know where he is . . . by the waterfall. Go right now…and hurry!"  
  
  
  
He nodded and tried his best to look brave, as he called the flying nimbus. She watched him zoom off on the yellow cloud and prayed that he and the Namekian would return quickly.  
  
  
  
"Gohan, please . . . hold on a little longer," she silently begged her halfling child. "We'll get everything to be ok again . . . just, please . . . hold on." 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer (part II): . . . yea, you get the gist of this.  
  
A/N: This chapter was, uhm . . . a bit tedious. I'm horrible at transitions, so just bear with me here. Hopefully the next chapter will be more interesting (key word being "hopefully)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"MISTER PICCOLO!"  
  
Thrown out of his meditation, the Namekian growled in annoyance and looked around for the source of the voice. He spied an orange and black blur speeding towards him, and distinguished it to be Goten.  
  
* I wonder what's gotten him so worked up . . . * he mused to himself. * Flying around this late at night and yelling his head off . . . there really IS something horribly wrong with Goku's offspring. *  
  
He lowered himself to the ground and stood up, waiting for the youngest demi-saiyan. Goten hopped off of the cloud, stumbled over to Piccolo, and tugged frantically at his dark purple gi.  
  
"MisterPiccolocomequicksomething'swrongwithGohanandwedon'tknowwhat'shappen ingandmommytoldmetocomegetyou . . . "  
  
He looked down impassively at the hyperactive child for a moment before reaching down and lifting him up by the back of his gi.  
  
"Slow. down." he commanded, holding the boy so that they were face to face. "I can't understand what you're saying . . . and for god's sake, stop tugging on my clothes. I know you're here . . . I'm listening."  
  
Goten squirmed and took a deep breath.  
  
"Go . . . Gohan . . . something's wrong with him . . . he's screaming and mommy's scared and shesaidtocomefindyouandnowIdidsopleasepleasepleasegohelpmybrotherhe's-"  
  
Piccolo cut him off by abruptly dropping him onto the flying Nimbus.  
  
"Breathe," he advised.  
  
Goten complied, and followed the already air-born Namekian as he took off towards their home. When they had almost reached the Son residence, a wave of enormous energy washed over them. Piccolo recognized the distinct ki immediately.  
  
* His energy level is skyrocketing . . . If he keeps this up he's going to kill himself! *  
  
As soon as he touched down on their front lawn, he strode over to Gohan with a grim resolve, slightly regretting what he had to do.  
  
* It can't be worse than all the times I knocked him into rocks and cliffs while we were training * he reassured himself, and in one fluid motion jabbed his fingers into the sides of his neck. The demi-saiyan's hair faded into black, as did his eyes, as he fell out of the powered up state. He clutched at his throat as he let out a few strangled gasps and crumpled limply to the ground.  
  
Piccolo managed a faint smirk.  
  
* I knew that technique would come in handy someday *  
  
He looked down at his singed hands- even a moment's contact had caused them to burn and blister. However, the well being of his hands was the least of his worries at the moment.  
  
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY GOHAN?!" Chi-chi exclaimed shrilly, already kneeling by her fallen son. "If you hurt my little boy in ANY way . . ."  
  
Piccolo watched calmly as she frantically checked to make sure that he was still breathing, and put her head on his chest to listen for a heartbeat.  
  
"I just knocked him out. He should be unconscious for a while, but he'll be fine."  
  
His mind wandered back to Gohan's long, grueling fight with Cell, and how many times he had gotten beaten down. Of course the 11 year old (with the help of his father) ended up winning in the end, but that victory had come at a price. He smirked.  
  
"He's had worse."  
  
With that he turned to leave, but something held him back. Or rather, someone. Piccolo looked down to see Goten latched securely to his cape, and the determined expression on his face made it quite obvious that he would not let go until he was heard out.  
  
"What."  
  
"Aren't you going to help Gohan?"  
  
He nearly face-vaulted at the youngest Son's question.  
  
"I did all that I could. Now let go of my cape."  
  
If anything, he gripped the white cloth tighter. The namek sighed. Before he could protest, however, Chi-chi intervened and crushed all his resolve with one word.  
  
"Please."  
  
He looked at her in shock: was this the same woman that had been screaming at him moments earlier?  
  
* That settles it . . . there's something horribly wrong with Goku's whole FAMILY *  
  
She seemed not to notice his astonishment and continued on.  
  
"This house holds too many painful memories for him. He needs . . . "  
  
She took a deep breath to keep her voice form wavering.  
  
" . . . He needs some time away. Some place where he can have time to rest and . . . get better."  
  
Piccolo wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly. She'd always been uneasy around him (which is certainly understandable since he HAD killed her husband and kidnapped their only child at the time), but now she was trusting Gohan to him, and him alone? It was rather unnerving. Yet he knew that it must have been near impossible for Chi-chi to let him go, and for her to do so showed how desperate she was for him to "get better," as she had put it.  
  
Wordlessly he walked over to the demi-saiyan body and hefted him over his shoulder. He was about to leave when he remembered that Goten was still clinging on to him.  
  
"You can let go now," he informed him. Goten complied hesitantly, and peered at him anxiously.  
  
"So you're going to help him, right?"  
  
"Nnh."  
  
Satisfied with the noncommittal grunt, the raven-haired little boy reached up and tugged on the arm of his older brother.  
  
"You better get fast quick, ok Gohan? I wanna spar with you!"  
  
With that comment of innocent naivety, he trotted off to Chi-chi's side. Not daring to look either of the Sons in the eyes for fear of a messy good- bye, Piccolo simply turned and took off into the night sky. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: all work and no play makes GT Trunks a very dull boy  
  
A/N: I apologize profusely for the shortest and crappiest fight scene in fanfics history. (it's directly in proportion to the opposite of how long the fights are in the TV show!) But other than that . . . well, hope you guys like it.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Piccolo landed gently in front of his cave and slid Gohan off his shoulders, laying him down on the cold ground. Not moving from his spot, he reached out one arm to a pile of sticks, spread out his hand, and ignited them with a low-intensity ki blast. Bright flames immediately engulfed the sticks, and the crackling of the fire was the only other sound besides the crickets chirping in the still night. The flames caused strange shadows to dance across the lifeless body, giving Gohan a look of un-reality.  
  
* This is going to be a long night . . . *  
  
With that less-than-optimistic thought, Piccolo settled into his usual meditative position and levitated into the air. There, he hovered a few feet above the boy and waited.  
  
  
  
[2 hours later]  
  
* Uuungh . . . *  
  
The first sensation that Gohan felt upon waking was extreme pain. Everywhere. In his legs, arms, sides, chest, back . . . even his head was throbbing. He forced himself to ignore the ball of soreness that was currently his body, and tried focusing on what was important. However, he wasn't quite ready to come to complete consciousness yet, much less focus on anything. Fragments of thought tumbled through his head, not yet ready to re-orient themselves.  
  
* Cold . . . nnh, blanket . . . ground's hard . . . 'm I outside? *  
  
Then the first complete thought:  
  
* Where am I? *  
  
He slowly opened his eyes a crack, and was greeted by the sight of his former mentor hovering near him.  
  
* How in the world did I end up here? I could've sworn I just stepped outside for a little bit . . . *  
  
He was about to open his mouth and call out to the meditating figure, when suddenly all the events of earlier that night came back to him in a flash. An overwhelming tidal wave of emotion hit him, almost drowning him with its intensity. He quickly squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to go back to that blissful state of unconsciousness. Anger, helplessness, but most of all humiliation ate away at his mind.  
  
* I can't believe I just lost it like that! Stupid, stupid, stupid! *  
  
He curled up into a ball and involuntarily let out a small whimper.  
  
  
  
  
  
Piccolo was immediately aware that Gohan had come around, but he decided to let the boy get used to his surroundings before doing or saying anything. He continued hovering over the ground, subtly keeping an eye on the teen. He was about to approach him when he opened his eyes, but stopped abruptly when he quickly shut them and curled up into a ball.  
  
The silent green being exhaled softly, in what seemed to be a mini-version of a sigh.  
  
* He must know that he's going to have to face things sooner or later *  
  
He stepped in front of the fire, casting a shadow over the demi-saiyan. A slight tremor ran through the teen's body.  
  
"Gohan."  
  
Knowing that there was no way on earth (or hell) that he would be able to convince his former mentor that he was still unconscious, he resorted to the only other thing he could think of: denial.  
  
"Oh, hi Piccolo!" he exclaimed with a desperate cheerfulness as he painfully got himself to a sitting position.  
  
Once he was certain that his body wasn't declaring an all-out mutiny, the battered halfling attempted to stand.  
  
"Some night, huh? Wow, guess I lost it pretty bad back there . . ."  
  
Piccolo closed his eyes briefly, as if warding off a headache.  
  
* Damnit, he's going to pretend nothing happened. *  
  
"Well, I'd better get home . . ."  
  
* No Gohan, do NOT do this to yourself *  
  
"Heh, you know how mom gets when . . ."  
  
"Stop."  
  
He did, in surprise.  
  
"You cannot just say 'I lost it pretty bad,' and walk away."  
  
" But that's all that happened! It was just a really, really bad day, I guess. I mean, everyone has them . . ."  
  
"YOU ALMOST KILLED YOURSELF!" Piccolo roared, causing Gohan to flinch slightly.  
  
He had seen his mentor succumb to such outbursts only a handful of times in all the time that he had trained under him. Not knowing what else to do, he slipped into defensive mode and set his features in an expression of cool indifference.  
  
"I'm going home now," he said crisply.  
  
"You know I will stop you."  
  
"Fine! Then fight me!" he exclaimed, his anger seeping through his façade of calmness.  
  
Piccolo said nothing, but grimly dropped into fighting stance. The two launched at each other, coming together in a fury of attacks. However, the emotional chaos in Gohan's mind greatly hindered his abilities, causing him to lose concentration and precision. It was the closest to "flailing around" that saiyans ever got. The Namekian easily dodged all his attacks and managed to grab him in a hold.  
  
"Why won't you admit that something is wrong?" he demanded in frustration.  
  
"Because that would show weakness!" the near-hysterical teen shot back. "And if I even show the tiniest sign of weakness, I'll get eaten alive. YOU taught me that!" 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I can make my own yogurt! Isn't that cool?! (the yogurt is mine. DBZ, unfortunately, is not. Pity)  
  
A/N: I just read over the previous chapters, and I realized that they're really . . . abrupt. *Laughs* Sorry about that! I tried making this one a little less-abrupt, but I don't think I faired too well on that count. Oh well, hope that it's at least a little better than the other chapters.  
  
P.S. To everyone that reviewed my story- you guys ROCK! *Big grin*  
  
Alrighty, on with the show . . .  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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The shock of this new revelation caused Piccolo to lose his grip momentarily, giving the raven-haired teen the opportunity he needed to free himself. He shot back ten feet or so, but surprisingly didn't fly away. His shoulders shook with his ragged breaths, which were caused more from his effort to hold his tears back rather than the brief struggle he had put up. A lock of his hair fell limply over his face, but he made no move to brush it back.  
  
"Remember? When you trained me, you taught me that all emotions except for anger only got in the way. So I stopped being afraid, and I stopped being lonely, and I even stopped being sad."  
  
He took a deep breath to regain control of his wavering voice. Piccolo looked at him steadily, his normally stoic expression replaced with one of regret.  
  
* I had forgotten how young he was . . . *  
  
"I'm sorry," he said softly, his deep voice free of its usual gruffness.  
  
Sorry that Gohan's life had become so messed up from the very beginning. Sorry for the childhood that was lost somewhere between studying and saving the world. But most of all, sorry that depriving the young boy of his humanity had been the price for his survival.  
  
However, instead of bursting into tears as would have been expected, the oldest Son put on a cold smirk that looked horribly alien on his boyish face.  
  
"Don't be. It's the best thing you've ever taught me."  
  
"You know that isn't true," Piccolo said in a harsh tone. "What I taught you was how to stay alive . . . and at the time, you could not have afforded to be led astray by unstable feelings."  
  
"So now it's different?"  
  
"Yes. It's unnatural for you to be like this."  
  
"Now you want me to change? Just like that?! God, Piccolo, I can't just turn my emotions on and off like that!" He exhaled harshly and averted his eyes to the flickering flames. ". . . Besides," he continued, "that's what you do and it doesn't seem unnatural at all."  
  
"You are not me."  
  
"Well I'm not one of them either!" he shot back vehemently, clenching his fists tightly.  
  
'Them'. Human beings.  
  
Piccolo was startled into silence.  
  
Somehow he had assumed that, since Gohan could never be at complete peace with his Saiyan side, he considered himself a human. Now he realized he was as much an outsider to their world as he was to the dead planet of Vegeta-sei.  
  
* I, of all people, should have known that! * he reprimanded himself severely.  
  
Born out of memories of hatred, and expelled from his former being as an entity of pure evil, the Namekian had never been but a part of an existence.  
  
* But at least I had an identity. *  
  
Son Gohan, on the other hand . . . he was patched together from his mother's determination that he become a scholar, his father's pride in him as a warrior, and after the Cell games, everybody's expectations of him growing up to be the strongest fighter alive. He was no longer a complete being . . . little by little he had bits of himself taken away, only to be stuffed with the dreams and hopes of others. All that was left was a collage of broken pieces.  
  
"Gohan," he said, quietly at first, but then with more force. "Gohan."  
  
"What . . ." he muttered sullenly, refusing to meet his former mentor's gaze.  
  
Piccolo strode over to him and firmly clamped a large calloused hand on his shoulder, causing the teen to struggle against his grip.  
  
"Let go!"  
  
"No."  
  
"Please . . . " he lowered his head and begged softly, his face beginning to crumble. "I just . . . I want to go home . . ."  
  
He choked, and the tears that had been forcefully held back from the moment he awoke finally spilled out.  
  
"I want to . . . go home and . . . and s-sleep this . . . a-all off and . . . forget any . . . any of this ha-happened . . .and . . . please, Pi- Piccolo . . . just let me . . . let me g-go home!"  
  
He sank to his knees for the second time that day, and dug his fingers into the cold ground as his whole body shook from the intensity of his tears. Piccolo watched the trembling figure for a moment, then kneeled down beside him. The Namekian could only recall one instance when Gohan had looked so vulnerable . . .  
  
He couldn't have been any more than 4 at the time, and he was all alone except for the very being that had killed his father. But now that Piccolo thought about it, he realized that it was probably fear more than vulnerability. The demi-saiyan HAD blasted out of his confinement in an attempt to rescue Goku . . . there was certainly nothing helpless about that. The sobbing boy in front of him right now, however, seemed so utterly hopeless and desolate that he had a hard time believing this was the same little boy who saved the world at age 11.  
  
He hesitantly reached out a large hand and cupped the pale, tear-streaked face. When Gohan didn't flinch or try to move away, he gently but firmly tipped his chin up and looked straight into those two midnight-black eyes.  
  
"Gohan . . ." he began, then noticed the boy's eyes shifting uneasily.  
  
"No, listen to me. Don't look away." Once Piccolo was sure that he had his undivided attention, he continued.  
  
"Before you came along I was just another cruel, heartless alien bent on killing the legendary Son Goku . . . no different from Frieza or Cell. But then you showed up . . . this tiny little thing, out of nowhere, and . . . " He paused, smiling faintly. "I may not have become some silly sentimental hero, but you made me realize that I DO have a beating heart under all this cold skin."  
  
He stopped once more, a thoughtful look coming over his face as if he were deciding how to phrase what he was about to say.  
  
"I want to help you . . . but it's impossible if you keep pretending that nothing is wrong. You have spent your whole lifetime fighting everyone else's demons . . . Now it's time to face your own." 


End file.
